Alfred Dehodencq was one of the most accomplished artists of the 19th century. Born in France, he chose to live in Morrocco for over a decade, where his most famous paintings were produced. Many of his painting depict typical Jewish scenes, but one stands out, known as, The Execution of a Jewess in Morocco.
Made in 1861, it is a powerful picture with a Jewish girl at the center being forced to kneel on a large platform. There is a large Arab standing over her with a knife to her neck. In the crowd there are two groups; one jeering and excited to see this execution. The other group somber and scared. In the foreground, there is a rabbi, depicting the leader of the community, deep in prayer, hunched over and broken.
The Jewess in the painting is Solica Hachuel.
I shared her story with some of you on Tisha B’av, but her story and specifically this painting has been haunting me ever since. There are differing versions as to what exactly took place; what I will be sharing with you is from Eugenio Maria Romero, a Spaniard who visited Morrocco shortly after this affair.
Solica was a 17-year-old Jewish girl who lived in Tangier, Morrocco. She was exceptionally beautiful and strong-willed; two factors that would play an important role in her life. She was friends with a Muslim neighbor, which was common at the time. At one point, her Muslim neighbor tried to get Solica to convert to Islam. Solica was not interested. However, it seems like her neighbor was as strong-willed as Solica and kept encouraging her to accept Muhammad as the true prophet. Solica repeatedly declined.
Exasperated, the neighbor turned to the local authorities and claimed that Solica had secretly converted to Islam. Her intention was possibly to get the authorities to force Solica to start practicing as a Muslim. However, the punishment for practicing Judaism after converting to Islam was death. Solica was brought before the local governor who accepted the Muslim girl’s testimony and then turned to Solica informing her that unless she accepted to live her life as a Muslim she would die.
After being threatened by death, Solica, the 17-year-old girl, replied to the governor: “I will patiently bear the weight of your chains; I will give my limbs to be torn by wild beasts. I will renounce forever the light of the day; I will perish of hunger. And when all the evils of life are accumulated on me by your orders, I will smile at your indignation, and the anger of your prophet since neither he nor you are able to overcome a weak female!”
The Jewish community mobilized and attempted to use whatever connections they had to free Solica. The most high-ranking individual they could reach was the Spanish Vice-Consul, who made a feeble attempt, but was unsuccessful.
Eventually, thanks to the public outcry, the case made its way to the Sultan. Allegedly, the sultan’s son was so taken by Solica’s beauty that he offered to marry her and make her a princess, if only she would convert. She refused. “A Jewess I was born, and a Jewess I will die,” is what she said.
One of the many people who came to visit her while she was waiting for her execution was one of the community’s leading rabbis. He explained to her that technically she could just pretend to accept Muhammad. He pleaded with her to do so, explaining how it would be extremely helpful for the Jewish community’s safety if she converts.
She refused.
On June 5th, 1834, Solica was dragged to the marketplace, where she was executed publicly with the words of Shema Yisrael proudly on her lips. If you visit Fez, you can join the many people who visit her grave.
Solica’s execution is most obviously a tragic tale. But the real tragedy is not her execution. The real tragedy is the community’s impotence; their inability to do anything about those false charges. The most heartbreaking tragedy of all is the rabbi, the rabbi depicted in that famous painting, who pathetically begged this heroine to renounce her faith.
I’m being a little harsh, I know. Who could blame him? The Jews, in the 19th century were powerless and completely dependent on the goodwill of their rulers. Of course, the rabbi had to meekly beg her to hide her true faith. Who can blame the community for not doing more? The Jews, in the 19th century, did not have political power.
But imagine for a moment that this story happened today. Do you know what kind of political pressure there would be on Morocco? How many presidents and prime ministers would weigh in and force the Moroccan government to let her go?
And if Morocco would refuse to listen, can you imagine the field day Mossad agents would have? Do you how many Moroccan beepers would blow up? How many nuclear scientists would mysteriously die?
And if they still refused, I could see Netanyahu sending fighter jets to blow up the prison and rescue her. I could even imagine Yair Lapid congratulating him for doing so.
And that pathetic, meek, rabbi, pleading with Solica to denounce her own faith, can you even imagine such a thing happening today?! Not. A. Chance.
There is a lot of handwringing in our community these days. Yes, antisemitic incidents are on the rise, yes, Israel is more isolated than she’s been in decades, yes, what is going on in Gaza is an absolute nightmare. But in over 2000 years, it has never been this good to be a Jew.
Since the creation of the State of Israel, have the enemies of the Jewish state been more afraid than they are today? Scared to use their phones, scared to meet in groups, scared to breathe.
There is a lot that is imperfect and terrible. We will not rest until the hostages come home, until the soldiers go back to their families, and until there is peace in Israel, but don’t tell me this has not been one of the most momentous years in recent Jewish history. Annihilation of Hezbollah in Hollywood fashion, near-decimation of Hamas, attacking the nuclear facilities of Iran and bringing the country to its knees?
If there is one thing history books will be saying about this year, it is that in 5785, the world learned that Jewish blood is not cheap.
Too bad Solica did not live in 2025, because if she did, she would still be alive. She would be walking the streets of Jerusalem with her head held high.
There are two ways to enter into Yom Kippur. We could be burdened by our inadequacies and how far we are from where we need to be, as individuals and as a people. We could look like that hunched over rabbi in that picture, weighed down by guilt and by shame. Or we could walk into Yom Kippur filled with gratitude; reflecting on a year in which G-d conveyed to us how after 2000 years of exile, He is watching over us and He cares.
Atoning for our sins is critical, but atonement is the trees of Yom Kippur. The forest – is how G-d is giving us an opportunity to reignite our relationship with Him. You know why He does this for us? You know why He gives us an opportunity to apologize to Him, to reconcile, to reconnect? Because Jewish blood is not cheap. Because we are precious to Him. And He wants us to know that.
We just said the blessing of She’hechiyanu, thanking G-d for bringing us to this day. On the Yom Kippur of 1834, in Tangier, Morrocco, Solica’s parents said this blessing with a stream of tears falling from their eyes. Despite all they went through, despite the pain and shame, they clung to their faith with bowed heads.
If Solica Hachuel lived today, she’d be screaming Shehechiyanu from the rooftops. And so should we.
Thank you, Hashem, for this past year, with all its hardships and all the unfinished business.
Thank you, Hashem, for eliminating so many of our neighboring enemies; Hezbollah, the Syrians, and most of Hamas.
Thank you, Hashem, for releasing our fear of the Iranians; we had been so scared of them for so long, and you have showed us their weakness.
Thank you, Hashem, for allowing the IDF and its security forces to be so successful, and showing the world that Jewish blood is not cheap
Thank you, Hashem, for reminding us that we matter, for allowing us to live in these glorious times. We are looking forward to spending these next 24 hours expressing our gratitude and rekindling our relationship. She’hechiyanu v’kiy’manu v’higiyanu lazman hazeh.